suddenly even the air
breathes ghost
the house we stay
Year 1989. It was only after one and half years that we found out
a couple committed suicide in our apartment in Shimousa Nakayama, Chiba. A neighbour told us one afternoon during a leisure chat. She said that was the reason it was let out to foreigners.
The first floor apartment which we had no problem staying in suddenly breathed ghosts. My hair stood on ends everytime I was alone in the house and could not wait to move out. The mind does play game with its owner, oftentimes directing its own horror script, sending shivers down our spine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem